


just guys being dudes

by falloutboiruto



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations
Genre: Accidental Kissing, Aged-Up Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Depression, Getting Together, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mild Angst with a happy ending, Miscommunication, Romantic Comedy, Secret Relationship, Teenage Dorks, medic!mitsuki, mitsuki: assigned simp at birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutboiruto/pseuds/falloutboiruto
Summary: A series of unfortunate events has some not-so unfortunate romantic outcomes. But communication might prove itself to be difficult.
Relationships: Mitsuki/Uzumaki Boruto
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	1. hard-to-ignore nerve impulses

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys i am BACK at it again.  
> this is going to be mostly cracky fun(i think. it's a wip) but i will possibly bring up darker topics as the story progesses.  
> rated t for swearing. a lot of swearing. i do write the characters as ~16 and thus there are some fairly milquetoast nods to teenage sexuality but this work will be fully sfw  
> beta read by my jolly good friend @reaperduckling
> 
> also mitsuki is a medic bc i want him to be

It was supposed to be just another day of Team 7 shenanigans. However, something very unusual was afoot—

“Sarada’s late,” Boruto remarked. She really was, 2 minutes had passed since they were supposed to meet up.

“Yes,” Mitsuki agreed. “She is indeed, I suppose.”

They were waiting in the usual city square, near the same old statue. Sarada’s tardiness was very out of place, though. So out of place that it was a hard topic to drop.

“She always gives me grief when I’m late. Now when she’s team captain, _she’s_ late? She’s such a hypocrite sometimes.”

Mitsuki nodded seriously, eyes only slightly glazed over. Boruto was unsure of how much more lighthearted-poking-fun-at-their-friend Mitsuki would humor, but he wasn’t ready to let it go just yet.

“Man, remember that time when we were, like, twelve, and—“Something wasn’t right. Boruto had meant to take a step forward, but his foot met not with trusty tarmac but rather with a surface that _moved, what the hell—_

(A glance downwards told him that he’d slipped on a lone, displaced skateboard that, looking back to three seconds ago, he’d known been there the whole time but never taken notice of.)

Then, a great number of things happened all at once. All in a moment’s glance that seemed to drag on for eons, like the air around them was made out of molasses. Boruto lunged forward, and as Mitsuki tried to catch him, he also somehow tripped on something and fell onto the same spot. By some microscopic chance, their lips met (what were the odds?). But mostly, their teeth knocked together.

“—ow!” Boruto scrambled up from the ground, a metallic taste in his mouth.

“Are you ok? Your lip is split. Let me just—“

Boruto felt the urge to run away, and so, he got up on his feet, only to fall again by trampling in some squidgy slippery substance that turned out to be a very flat banana peel(probably the same one Mitsuki had slipped on only seconds ago). Boruto stumbled, accidentally stepping onto the skateboard that had started this strange turn on events.

“Oh,” Mitsuki said owlishly, but then he got further and further away. _What the—_

The skateboard had started moving on its own accord (not very surprising, what with all the wheels attached to it and all), and Boruto started zooming away down a steep hill, accelerating rapidly. He had gotten to the outskirts of town and down a forest path in a heartbeat.

While he first and foremost focused on just barely dodging low-hanging tree branches to the face, Boruto slowly started realizing that a lot needed to be unpacked in this situation. This was absolutely a… _way_ to get away from an awkward situation, granted. But it was a bit too much. He should just jump off the skateboard, land on his feet, and be fine. Only that, when he’d gotten to that point in thought process, he was already speeding off a cliffside and found himself swiftly falling into a steep ravine.

As the wind swooshing past his ears almost drowned out him screeching at the top of his lungs, he fell into nothingness. Well, if he squinted he could make out several sharp-looking rocks at the bottom. So, he had that to look forward to. However, his descent into untimely death-by-pointy-rock was stopped, as a _thing_ grabbed his waist. Said thing was pretty elastic as it made Boruto bounce up and down slightly (much like with a bungee jump cord) yet very unmistakably human-arm-shaped. He looked up—

“That was— Hm. I don’t even know how to describe that.” Mitsuki’s worried face came into view 20 meters up-cliffside. “Is this a common occurrence for you?” He started reeling Boruto in. “I’ve never seen you act this clumsy.”

 _Thank you_ , is what Boruto wanted to say. But the words didn’t come out. As he got pulled upwards, swaying slightly from side to side, his left foot accidentally touched a loose rock imbedded in the cliffside. It wiggled. _Oops._ “Nghk—well— if you hadn’t shocked me by kissing me this wouldn’t have happened! I was distracted!” The rock detached, fell down the ravine, and, from the sound of it, shattered into a million pieces at impact. _If Mitsuki hadn’t saved me, that would’ve been me._

“Boruto, you ok?” The drag upwards slowed down slightly. 

“Just get me out of here!”

“Oh, ok,” Mitsuki resumed his attempts. ”Well, back to what you said—I thought it was clear that the kiss wasn’t my intention. It was just a mishap. You slipped on the skateboard that’s now on the bottom of this ravine, and I slipped on a banana peel at the same time. The rest was just gravity.”

“I know! It _just_ happened! I was there!”

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I can heal your cut in no-time.”

“ _Hrgnh_.” Boruto was now safely at regular ground-level and was gingerly placed on his feet. Being vertical never felt so good.

“Well, I’m glad I could help. It would be sad if you died,” Mitsuki said. The flatness of his voice could’ve just as well been sarcastic, but Boruto knew him well enough to know that he was being painfully sincere. “ _Very sad_ ,” he added later as if to drive the point home. Despite the usual awkwardness, the way Mitsuki looked at Boruto somehow made his stomach flutter and his lips tingle (and not just from the sizable bite mark in them from them knocking their teeth together earlier).

Trying desperately to disguise his newfound tender emotions and somehow ending up on ‘huffy”, Boruto turned on his heel. “Well, good-bye!” Putting some distance between them would surely eradicate the need for further introspection. But instantly, Mitsuki grabbed his arm again. The touch made his skin buzz, a sensation similar to getting tasered(a little bit).

“You’re walking the wrong way.”

“No, I’m not—“Boruto looked down at his feet. He was one step away from falling down the cliff again. “Ok, maybe so.”

A quiet beat passed as they walked towards the village again. The forest path that Boruto had zoomed down the opposite direction just a few minutes ago seemed so much longer on foot. Usually, Mitsuki wasn’t one for small talk, but this time seemed to be an exception.

“—have you put enough distance between yourself and the ravine that you feel comfortable getting fixed up?”

“What, do you think that I’m afraid of that stupid ravine or something?”

“Almost dying is a traumatic event.”

Boruto responded only in a squeaky pubescent barely-human-noise with his mouth, to which Mitsuki nodded sagely. "So, you agree with me?" His face was barely visible in the shadows cast by the forest vegetation, but something (probably the several years of past friendship) made Boruto think that Mitsuki was mocking him. Sort of? It was hard to tell. Well, whatever level of mockery that was intended or not, it was harmless.

 _Mostly_.

“Do you think this is funny?”

“Not that you fell down a cliff, no. But, your wounded pride is hilarious,” Mitsuki said, yet not smiling in the slightest. He had suddenly gotten very close without warning. “Now hold still.” Reaching his hand out, he grabbed Boruto by the chin with a certain assertive dentist-like quality to his motions. The flash of blue glowing healing light tingled, but also made Boruto’s stomach twist in a way that wasn’t painful, just _new_ and _weird_ and something he couldn’t quite name—

“So. You’re all good now,” Mitsuki gave his healing handiwork an appraising look and apparently found it satisfactory. He stepped out of Boruto’s comfort zone and continued walking along the forest path. 

“Uh,” Boruto stuttered out. Even though Mitsuki had healed the cut, Boruto's lips still stung, somehow. " _Thank you?”_ The last few syllables of his expression of gratitude lilted and went, well, sideways unexpectedly. If Mitsuki noticed, he didn’t comment on it. He was getting ahead now, almost disappearing into the foliage, so Boruto had to snap himself out of his gawking and jog to catch up.

Excitement? Was that the emotion he was experiencing? For reals? Yes? No? Maybe so?

Definitely yes.

_Holy fu—_

“Hurry up. Sarada is waiting for us,” Mitsuki shouted from almost-too-far away, hands framing his mouth to amplify his tinny voice.

_This better not awaken anything in me._

-

“Where were you guys?” Sarada fumed as soon as they got back to their meeting place. “I’ve been waiting for half an hour!” She tapped her right wrist to the wristwatch she didn’t have. Boruto raised his eyebrows at Mitsuki to telepathically communicate the sentiment of _told you so_.

“We took a slight detour,” Mitsuki said without skipping a beat. “It’s a long story. Let’s just get on with it.”

“Did something happen?” Suddenly, there was nothing but concern in Sarada’s eyes. “Boruto, you look—“

Boruto immediately straightened his spine like he’d been zapped. A thousand possible continuations of his friend’s line of thought ran through his head on hyperspeed, and she landed on the worst possible one.

“—Why are your clothes all dirty and beat up?” She narrowed her eyes, glancing between him and Mitsuki. “You too, Mitsuki? Did you roll down a hill or something?”

“We—“

“Nothing happened!” Boruto yelled, interrupting Mitsuki before he even got started telling what surely would be the embarrassing, brutally honest truth.

“ _Right_ ,” Sarada hissed out. Her shoulders were tense, her hands on her hips. Then, she sighed and visibly deflated. “Look, I’m really trying here. I need to establish a perfect record to get promoted to jonin before my 17th birthday. It’s really important, so can you please just _try_ to be on time?”

“We understand,” Mitsuki reached out a hand and patted her very gently on the shoulder, just once. As a consolation attempt, it was slightly off, perhaps, but oh-so-earnestly meant. He glanced back at Boruto, just once, and something about the way his face shifted made Boruto regret that he had interrupted him. Just a tinge of it though, nothing more.

-

And so, Boruto spent a frankly embarrassing number of nights tossing and turning while trying to figure out whether or not the feelings that he suddenly held for his friend were just a fluke or not. When he wasn’t spending time with Mitsuki, then sure, he could convince himself of their unimportance. But the downside to being his teammate was that they did, surprising no-one, spend a lot of time together. And during those times it was very hard to ignore how awkward and sweaty he felt if Mitsuki did as much as look at him.

So, Boruto eventually decided to bite the bullet and during a day off, he very sneakily asked if he could visit Mitsuki at his apartment (for optimal privacy).

-

**Boruto:** uuuhhh can we hang out tomorrow? just us. at your place. no reason just wondering

 **Mitsuki:** Sure. What’s the occasion?

 **Boruto:** idk just kinda feeling like it

 **Mitsuki:** Okay. Well, whatever your reason is, you can tell me tomorrow.

 **Boruto:** gr8!!!!!!! hot diggidy!!!

-

Mitsuki’s apartment was about as small, empty and sterile (save for the myriad of cat-related items, including but not limited to a cat bed shaped like a shark) as Boruto remembered it being. Only, something was off. There was a slight staleness in the air, and there were dust bunnies and even something that looked a lot like a cobweb in the corners of the room.

“I’ll open the balcony door,” Mitsuki announced. While his back was turned, Boruto mustered up the courage to blurt out the burning question on his mind;

“About the kiss the other day—”

“Do your lips still hurt?” Mitsuki asked concern written all over his face as he looked over his shoulder. A slightly cold breeze entered the room as the balcony door squeaked open.

“No! It’s great!” Boruto assured him. “But I was just wondering. If you’d be interested in— Y’know. Doing. Stuff.”

“I do not know what sort of ‘stuff’ you are referring to.”

Boruto took a deep breath. How to put this in the best way possible? “I think I’m interested in you? In like, a romantic way? Is this a, uh, mutual feeling or—” He pointed wildly between the two of them until he realized that this was no time to be awkward. It was time to brace himself for the inevitable, horrible rejection—

“I thought you’d never ask,” Mitsuki said, way more casually than the situation demanded. “Yes. Definitely. I am mutually interested in you as well.”

_???What???_

“I didn’t think I was being all that subtle,” Mitsuki continued as Boruto gawked, slack-jawed, at him.

A long pause followed while Boruto tried his damnedest to process the events of the last five minutes. He finally arrived at a position that could be summarized as _‘way better than expected, yet absolutely terrifying’_. “So, what now?”

“I was just going to take a nap, honestly. Usually, I don't have the energy to do much while I'm home," Mitsuki said, his back turned away from him again. Boruto seized the opportunity to as non-descriptively as possible pick off a dust bunny that had gotten stuck to the underside of his sock. “You can join me if you’d like.”

Taking a moment to process the full implication of the proposal, Boruto’s brain short-circuited(again). The dust bunny fell out his grasp while giving the most dramatic performance of its short and sad dust bunny life. At impact with the floor, it made a thunderous noise(not really, but it did in Boruto's imagination).

“I didn’t mean it like _that_ ,” Mitsuki said, voice slightly choked up like he was stifling a giggle. “I meant a nap. _With clothes on_.”

The clarification made the whole situation easier to digest (even though his face still burned). Said and done, they got on the bed. Then what?

“It’s easier to fall asleep if you lie down,” Mitsuki pointed out. Then, he moved to sit up. “If you’d rather do something else, that’s ok too—“

Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, Boruto steeled himself at the edge of the bed. “No—wait—Let me just—“He lowered himself down, slowly, until he was fully horizontal.

_Again, then what?_

“I think people sometimes cuddle in these situations,” Mitsuki remarked dryly. Had Boruto said that last part out loud? “I would be interested in that. Would you?”

_Yes?_

Snuggling in closer, Boruto closed his eyes as if that would stop the stirring of butterflies in his stomach (it didn’t). The warmth seeping through the clothes covering the part of Mitsuki’s waist that he dared to touch felt like burning, as if instead of awkwardly spooning his friend (????????) he was wrestling with an alit firecracker. But aside from nerves that were about as bad as a handful of blisters, Mitsuki’s bed was very comfortable. It was almost like Boruto fit in it, next to him.

For the first few minutes, Boruto was very busy trying but failing not to smell the scent of what must be the shampoo Mitsuki used (outright smelling someone’s hair would probably be too much on the first cuddle? Right? _Right_?) but it was proving very difficult as he had his face right up against into the back of Mitsuki’s head. Boruto briefly pondered if Mitsuki was just as nervous, and his desire to keep any sort of (romantic?) ambiance was overrun by the impulse to whisper:

“Are you asleep yet?”

“No?” Mitsuki shifted slightly, the mattress dipping a bit, and wait— he had turned around and his face was suddenly so close, too close for comfort— “Should I go to sleep already?”

“ _Maybe_?”

A few minutes were spent in companionable silence. Eventually, Boruto could feel through his ribcage that his friend (honestly, _very_ debatable at this point)’s breathing had evened out, and he shut his eyes for just a second—

He blearily opened his eyes and found himself facing the opposite way from how he’d (evidently enough) fallen asleep, out towards the edge of the bed. A small, furry figure sat on the floor nearby. Its paws were neatly tucked underneath itself, and it closely resembled a loaf of bread. Oh yeah, right, Mitsuki had a cat. It must’ve gotten in through the open balcony door. Its stare was intense enough to burn a hole right through Boruto’s skull. Maybe he should ask the cat’s owner about what ‘creepy staring’ meant? He flopped onto his other side, and upon coming across Mitsuki’s peacefully sleeping face too-close to his own, he yelped like a squeaky chew toy.

“— _what_.” Mitsuki squinted groggily at him, thoroughly unimpressed. He slowly brought up a hand to his face to rub at his eyes. The imprint of the pillow he’d been sleeping on was embedded in his cheek.

“Your cat is staring at me.”

A long silent pause, one that dragged on for long enough for Boruto’s face to grow hot and shame stir in his stomach, followed.

“—yes, cats do that. They find humans interesting. Look, they blinked. It means that they like you.”

The cat was indeed slowly blinking, a tender gleam in its eyes. But it still technically qualified as a stare. And so, Boruto wasn’t entirely convinced.

“It’s funny to think that when I first met Mikazuki, I knew nothing about cats,” Mitsuki said. Now, it’s you that’s intimidated.” He made kissy noises (??? _So cute???)_ at the cat and scratched his fingernails against the blanket. The cat yawned, contorting its face in a manner that would've been terrifying on a less furry, small, and squishy creature, stretched its front legs for good measure, and then leaped onto the bed. Its first course of action was to headbutt Mitsuki in the face, which was, honestly, also adorable.

“Should I let it smell my hand first?” Boruto asked. He vaguely remembered that as good cat-petting manners. Holding out his hand, he was greeted by the feline sniffing it and then starting to rub its tiny face on his hand.

“That’s called scent-marking,” Mitsuki explained. “In layman’s terms, it means that Mikazuki likes you.” He scratched the cat behind one ear. “They like me doing this. You should try it.”

The cat leaned into Boruto’s touch and soon enough, he was confident that he and Mikazuki were already best friends. Until he rubbed its belly and it bit him, that was.

“They don't like that, no.” Mitsuki wistfully looked in the direction Mikazuki had run off too (a corner of the room, furiously licking itself clean to purge itself of any sort of lingering Boruto-related-scent). “Anyways, what did you think?” He directed his full attention back to Boruto, who squirmed under his stare.

“About what?” He could feel the sweat run down his back.

“Us.”

Ugh, he should’ve been able to guess that from context. Crap! Now he seemed non-committal. _Augh—_ “I think I like you? So I want to spend more alone-time with you,” Boruto blurted out. “We should do this again! Except I won’t make Mikazuki bite me next time, heh.“

God, Mitsuki even giggled at his lame excuse for a joke. “That sounds great. With you here, I have someone to be. It’s—“he trailed off, probably looking for the right words but ending up silent. He looked expectantly at Boruto as if his role was to carry the conversation.

“It’s what, exactly?” Elaboration would be nice.

“Nothing.” He smiled, in a way that for him usually meant it wasn’t nothing. But the slight discomfort Boruto would’ve normally felt about that was soon forgotten as they made some more plans, and eventually parted ways.

He greeted Mom in the hall at home and gave a short, slightly edited-for-easy-consumption explanation of where he’d been. Omitting some details was normal this early on, right? It was nothing to feel guilty about.

“Well, you look like you had fun,” Mom said, smiling all-knowingly as if she saw right through him. "Dinner is ready in half an hour."

So. This (Mitsuki and he, _duh)_ was a thing now? Boruto was starting to lean more towards _hopeful_ than _terrified_ (even though it was frankly, a mix of both). He did have the uncontrollable urge to race up the stairs to squee into his pillowcase, and that seemed like a good sign.

Probably?


	2. pink, or its scientific name; ‘gay red’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boruto and Mitsuki go on a first(well, second)date to the park! What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter discusses internalized homophobia and being down-low(=secret dating, usually bc of fear of experiencing outside prejudice) in a fairly lighthearted way. beware?
> 
> beta read by @reaperduckling.

In the small hours of the night, Mitsuki awoke to a string of crackling, wet noises. He didn’t even have to turn the lights on to know that the source of the curious(and disgusting) noise was his cat, Mikazuki, licking the plastic bag lining his trash bin. _Again_. So, he just turned over to the other side and while futilely trying to cover his ears with his pillow. He, really, _really_ needed to sleep. Yesterday night, he had received a phone call check-in from his parent that, while it’d been fairly short, polite, and only the routine questions, had left him with a numb sensation yet a million racing thoughts. Falling asleep afterward had been a challenge. And before that, earlier that day, well—

Boruto had, maybe not in so many words, but _sort of_ asked him out. They had taken a nap together. 

(Mitsuki had not informed his parent of this. Lying out of omission was a skill he’d mastered by now.)

It had been a strange and unpredictable turn of events, yet most definitely not unwelcome. Very much welcome, in fact. Extremely welcome. Yet somehow, Mitsuki had always imagined that having his affections returned would make him feel a little bit more like a normal teenager(for a lack of a more precise term) _._ It wasn’t like he wasn’t pleased with what had happened yesterday. It was, pretty much, the optimal scenario that he’d been imagining to perfection for several years. Being paid attention to and receiving affection was great, it had turned out. Furthermore, Boruto had expressed interest in being affectionate towards him again, on future occasions. Mitsuki had always figured that his own perceived disconnect from his peers had been due to his upbringing (that he’d early on understood was quite, well, different from theirs). He had never received a lot of attention and emotional support from any sort of parental figure (as that seemed to be customary), so he had sought that validation elsewhere. While he’d made friendships that he at least hoped would last for the entirety of his lifespan, none of it had been quite enough to make him feel less alienated.

Perhaps he just needed to get a bit more accustomed to feeling cared for, and his doubts would just go away. Logically, that would make sense. He resurfaced from his self-inflicted pillow smothering only to be greeted by the bright orange tint of the rising sun seeping through the nooks and crannies in betwixt the windows and the pulled-down curtains. The birds were singing outside, like total jerks. A slight shift in the curtains and the flick of a disappearing tail suggested that Mikazuki had sneaked outside, hopefully, to hunt down said bird jerks. It was only the natural order of things.

“I believe in you, Mikazuki,” Mitsuki muttered into the empty room. He’d get up soon. There was no use dwelling upon what he could not change. But, it was easy.

-

The passing week was spent not having any time to talk to each other about anything (possible)relationship-related. They had promised Sarada to stay focused on their missions, after all. And with her around, it wasn’t like they could talk about it even when they had time off anyway. Keeping it secret felt necessary, somehow. But that also meant that the sauciest thing that happened all week was that while Boruto was holding a bandit down so that Mitsuki could tie said bandit up with a rope, their fingertips brushed, once.

“Stop staring at each other, that guy is getting away!” Sarada screamed while chasing after said bandit. 

Boruto blinked, snapping out of endlessly gazing into Mitsuki’s eyes. His knee, that had been previously pressing into the bandit’s back, now rested on nothing(except the boring old ground).

“Yeah, he made a run for it,” Mitsuki said, breathlessly, as the bandit’s screams of pain echoed through the forest. “Sarada got to him, though. Maybe we should stare at each other later. Are you free tomorrow afternoon?”

-

The prospect of an actual date, an honest to god _date_ with Mitsuki, felt like all Boruto’s dreams of the past three weeks were coming true. They had agreed on meeting at the park and doing _something_.

_“You can figure it out. I’m all out of ideas,” Mitsuki had shrugged._

Thing was, Boruto didn’t know what people did on first dates. Technically the second date? But luckily, he heard his Mom’s footsteps down the hall, so he popped his head out of his doorway and waved at her. She obliged, and he shut the door behind her.

Sparing a quick backwards glance at the closed door, she tucked a swaying strand of dark hair behind her ear. "What's all this, then?"

“So, Mom…” He breathed in deeply and clasped his hands. “Let’s say that I would hypothetically meet up with a friend, just us. It should be special.” _Be as vague as possible._ He pointed his clasped hands towards her. “Do you have any ideas of what would be appropriate in that situation?”

“Is it a date?” 

“No!” He bristled. Mom stifled a chuckle at his surely tomato-red face.

“Ok, well… I think you need to wear a nicer outfit than that first of all-”

“-What’s wrong with my tracksuit?”

Mom opened up his closet and pulled out a pink sweater she had gotten him. It still had the tags on. “You would look so handsome in this!”

Boruto eyed the pink sweater with suspicion. Somehow, wearing an entire pink sweater seemed too obvious. His excitement was replaced with dread. The words he thought of next turned acidic in his throat. “Pink? That’s gay red!” he spat out like the sweater had committed some shameful crime.

“-Hey now, there’s nothing wrong with being gay! Also, you love pink! What’s gotten into you, Boruto?” She hugged the sweater to her chest as if to comfort it.

“It’s just-” He was lying to his Mom. _His Mom. This wasn’t-_ “You’re right, it’s a great sweater.”

“I know, I got it just for you.” 

“But like… I was thinking that maybe my friend and I would do something more physical- '' Mom quirked an eyebrow. “-not like that! But like, this sweater is too nice for athletic activity! I’ll just wear my tracksuit.”

“Oh, then I know just the activity for you, then!”

Mom, it turned out, did have an old tandem bike hidden away ‘somewhere’ in the storage shed. Boruto was very much apprehensive at first, because it sounded, uh, _lame_ , but after she had enthused/nagged him enough about how cool tandem bikes were, he gave in. 

They had to practically dig it out of a cavern made up of a surprising amount of tucked-away heavy cardboard boxes filled to the brim with _stuff_. After Mom had shown him at least four tiny sweaters he’d worn as a baby(“If you ever have kids, they can inherit them!”), they finally reached their goal. Together they rolled the bike out on the pavement(it was surprisingly heavy). The tires needed to be refilled with air, but other than that, it appeared to be in good condition. Wiping the dust off the saddles with a wet cloth was the finishing touch.

“Your father and I used to ride this all the time!” You and your _friend_ can use this,” Mom said, playfully enunciating ‘friend’ like she was implying that the unnamed friend(secretly Mitsuki) was anything but a _friend_. “But only on one condition.”

“What?” Boruto shivered(and sweated profusely) in anticipation.

“That you both wear helmets,” she said with vigorous jazz hands. “Safety first!”

-

Boruto led(with some trouble) the tandem bike by foot to the park, helmet(s), and all. It took a lot longer than expected. He planned to take his off and hide it in a bush, but before he could do that--

“Hello, Boruto. And hello, Boruto’s tandem bike that is news to me,” Mitsuki said, somehow having sneaked up on him even though he was standing right in front of him in perfectly-lit daylight. “I’m loving the helmet. It looks good on you.”

“Eugh, isn’t it lame? I’m only wearing it because my Mom made me-”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic,” Mitsuki tore his eyes away from the said helmet. “Oh look, you brought one for me as well.” He nodded towards the other extra helmet that Boruto had slung over the front handlebars of the bike. “How thoughtful.”

Riding the tandem bike together(wearing helmets) turned out to be fun. Things were great! Until they saw Inojin(what was he doing at their park!?) approaching, so they steered into a bush. In the said bush, there was a rogue banana peel, just barely hidden underneath the crunchy brown leaves, so they promptly fell over and crashed into the ground. 

“Well, good thing we are wearing helmets,” Mitsuki said, his head only a few centimeters away from being cracked open by a giant rock. 

They excited the bush on the other side(to avoid Inojin’s prying eyes), but as soon as they got going, the wheels of the bike skidded on yet another(where did they keep coming from?) banana peel and crashed(again!) into the ground.

“Oh hey, you guys!” Inojin said between bites of what looked suspiciously like a peeled banana. He stood idly by. watching, as they scrambled to get up. “What’s with the weird bike?”.

Once they and the bike were standing up straight again, the question Boruto didn’t want to answer couldn’t be ignored anymore. But he didn’t have to.

“We’re just guys, being dudes, being bros,” Mitsuki said dutifully, just like he and Boruto had rehearsed beforehand. Hearing it said out loud felt rather wrong, though. Like it was a lie(which it, to be fair, was).

Inojin did a quick double-take between the two of them like they’d grown a few extra pairs of heads. However, he casually continued with; “Well, if you get tired of that, they’re giving out free fruit today.” He gestured towards a nearby fruit cart(with a colorful parasol) stocked with, you guessed it, bananas. A small banana-eating crowd was gathered around it, and at their feet, droves of discarded peels littered the grass lawn. Several of their old school-friends looked up from their tasty yet healthy snacks to wave at them. _Oh god no!_

“Let’s go, Mitsuki!” Boruto screamed, panicked, and they skedaddled away on the bike as fast as possible. The superiority of a tandem bike showed itself right then and there, as it was very fast. It was a great choice for making escapes. Soon enough, they had reached a bridge.

“Could we stop here for a while?” Mitsuki asked. He leaned the bike against a nearby trash can. It teetered dangerously under its weight, and they both had to grab it at last second to keep it from falling over. “How do you park this thing?” 

“I’m not sure how Mom and Dad did it back in the day,” Boruto sighed and wrangled his brain for ways to not scuff the bike up even more than it already was. “There are no bicycle supports on this thing-” Mitsuki was in the middle of taking off his bicycle helmet, but stopped, mid-motion, in a manner so dramatic that Boruto shut up in the middle of complaining about the bike. There wasn’t enough time for him to get too nervous about accidentally having said something wrong, though.

“Your parents used to ride this?” Mitsuki finished taking his helmet off and carefully threaded one of the straps through the handlebars on his part of the bike. “Maybe we can just lay it on the ground. The bike, I mean.”

Boruto was too distracted by their joint effort to finally put down the bike on the ground to answer him. Free at last. “Yeah! My mom lent me it for our date.”

“Did you tell her this was a date?” Mitsuki said, his voice going sideways and his eyes narrowing in a way that made Boruto feel like he was under a microscope.

“No, why?”

“Oh,” Mitsuki sounded almost disappointed for a second but recovered quickly. “I suppose that is normal.” He grabbed Boruto’s hand(!!!), interlacing their fingers together. Words could not describe the sheer greatness of that single handhold. “Come on, I want to show you something.” Surprisingly enough, Mitsuki didn’t lead him onto the bridge so they could watch the sunset together. Instead, they ventured into the tall off-road grass and walked down the hill beside the bridge.

“Mitsuki? Is the thing you want to show me underneath the bridge?” The grass swayed in their path and rustled against the fabric of Boruto’s pant legs. 

“Yes.” 

“This is the bridge where people get stabbed!”

“We can handle it," he chuckled. “I’m going to show you a secret. I think you’ll like it.”

_“Uh…” What could be so romantic about a creepy old overpass?_

Said and done, they reached their downhill destination. The ripple of the stream echoed against the high ceiling of concrete. Together, they stepped over moss-covered rocks but were careful to avoid the sparkling shards of broken glass from shattered empty bottles. A crude graffiti caricature of Dad with the accompanying text ‘THE HOKAGE SUCKS’ had been sprayed in red paint on one of the pillars(Boruto had a sudden flashback of painting it himself several years ago. God, his art style had been horrible back then).

Not a soul in sight.

“I like to come here sometimes, at night,” Mitsuki said. “It’s peaceful.” He squeezed Boruto’s hand in his. A silent moment dragged on(an ambiance had been successfully created, if you would) where the outline of Mitsuki’s face in the shadows was the most beautiful sight in the world.

“I can see the appeal,” Boruto said, surprisingly truthfully. Well, it wasn’t the surroundings he was really paying attention to, anyway. “Was this what you were going to show me?”

“No,” Mitsuki said, and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooo SMOOTH one mitsuki


	3. depresso espresso, interpersonal communication, and you(life moves on)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey m'dudes. so this is it. the end of this crazy ride. hope u enjoy! in this chapter the depression stuff is discussed more in depth so beware if that's something ur sensitive to
> 
> thanks to @reaperduckling for beta reading and always supporting/enabling my batshit crazy sense of humor. ALSO thanks to @angelic_shapeshifter and @adoorable_door for juggling ideas w/ me

Things were going great. After their tandem bike date, Boruto had gotten to hang out with Mitsuki alone several times. It was fun! And great! And fun! The only thing, well _two_ things to be exact, that bothered Boruto were;

  1. The fact that they were doing this all in secret. It wasn’t what Boruto wanted, really. Mitsuki’s opinion on this matter was very unclear, but yet, they had somehow made an unspoken agreement to not tell anyone.
  2. Also, Mitsuki really didn’t like making decisions on his own. And so, Boruto was forced to make all of their decisions. He only had so much imagination, dammit!



-

On one of their solo hangouts(/secret dates), they were going to see the 16th Kagemasa movie, as per Boruto’s request. When buying snacks for the movie, Boruto just picked a bag of his favorite bag of chips and went to the cash register on autopilot. Just as he told the cashier to throw away the receipt, he noticed that Mitsuki was missing. Well, not missing as much as still loitering in the snacks aisle.

“Can’t decide?” Boruto asked.

In Mitsuki’s hands, he held two different bags of chips. One bag was regular salt flavored, the other one was sea salt flavored. “Boruto, which one of these is the best?” But before Boruto had the time to answer, Mitsuki put both of the bags back. “I’ll just go without.”

And then they watched the movie and had a great time! See, everything was just dandy!

-

 **Mitsuki:** Boruto, can you help me decide what to wear tomorrow?

 **Boruto Uzumaki:** sure

 **Mitsuki:** [A picture of a pair of identical oversized shirts laying on a bedspread. They both look exactly the same as the interchangeable shirts Mitsuki would wear on a regular basis.]

 **Boruto Uzumaki** : they’re the same shirt??????

 **Mitsuki:** Yes, but no.

 **Boruto Uzumaki:** it kinda doesn’t matter which one u pick

 **Boruto Uzumaki:** but uh maybe the left one?

 **Mitsuki:** Thank you!

If Mitsuki wore the left shirt the next day or not was a complete mystery to Boruto, because he literally couldn’t tell the difference. But whatever made Mitsuki happy, right?

-

This continued for weeks until Boruto ran out of ideas of couple-y activities that could be done outside of the house(Boruto’s house was a no-no because there were _people_ there. Mitsuki’s apartment was also not ideal as the only things they could do there were a) pet Mikazuki and b) wonder about how making out would feel like but not having the courage to express this). Said activity also needed to be discreet enough that no-one they knew would see them. And so, he asked Mitsuki for ideas of what to do next. His suggestion was nothing short of disappointing;

“I don’t know.”

“I keep deciding everything! Isn’t there something you want to do?”

A pause followed. "Well, we could go to an arcade,” Mitsuki suggested.

“That’d be fun! I have so many coupons for _Star Arcade_!” He really did, he had an entire drawer assigned to storing them in his desk.

“You mean the one all our friends go to?” Something apprehensive entered Mitsuki’s voice. “I was thinking of the other one in town.”

“But that’s where Iwabe saw that giant rat! No-one ever goes there!”

“Exactly. That’s my suggestion.”

-

“Welcome to the Xtra Fun Arcade, a wondrous place where dreams become true,” the lone arcade employee, a guy in his late teens/early twenties in a silly hat(probably part of his uniform), droned. It was like he was reading off a script. “I am contractually obligated to ask if you two are spies hired by our competitor, Star Arcade, to investigate and confirm the insidious rumors of the alleged presence of a ‘giant rat’ residing at our location.” He dropped the finger quotes, cleared his throat, and casually added; “My boss thinks they’re secretly trying to drive him out of business, y’see.”

“No, we’re here on a dat-” Boruto cut himself off mid-word. “I mean, we’re just two dudes desiring some fun bro time at the arcade!” In his peripheral vision, he saw Mitsuki’s face twitch in a way that could’ve been interpreted as a wince( _ohgodwasheuncomfortable???_ ), but it was gone as soon as it came. Boruto must’ve been staring, because Mitsuki mouthed a single, confused ‘what’ at him while the arcade employee kept going on and on about his job. 

“-Aww,I wish you were spies. Honestly, my boss would deserve that, the bastard. I haven’t actually seen the rat, like ever,” the employee sighed. “Well, if you see it, please tell me, ok? My parents won’t let me quit my job here, but if this place shuts down I’ll finally have a chance of entering culinary school.”

“We will,” Mitsuki nodded sagely while purchasing their tokens. “I’m sure you’ll be a great chef one day.”

They(thankfully) walked away from the oversharing employee towards the main hall of the arcade. The lights were dimmed, leaving the room quite dark. A thick layer of dust covered the first machine(a fighting game called Street Ninja Fighter) they reached. It reminded Boruto of Mitsuki’s apartment. Which was mean, but also true. But still, mean. Boruto quickly squashed the thought down into the back corner of his brain to never be thought of or uttered again. The controller was vaguely sticky in his hand. _Great. Maybe the rat had licked the controller, hehehe?_

“Which character do you want?” Boruto asked. Several colorful 8-bit playable characters, the majority of them being extremely buff-looking men, stood bouncing in place on the startup menu.

“Oh, I just want to watch you play,” Mitsuki said. He wasn’t even standing near the other controller. Instead, he leaned over Boruto’s shoulder(probably not even seeing the screen that well). Well, that worked too.

And so, Boruto faced several rounds of getting his pixel behind thoroughly beaten by the NPC enemies. To his defense, Mitsuki’s close presence was causing him extreme performance anxiety. It got even worse when Mitsuki’s hand wandered to his waist. Eventually, the screen blacked out and spelled out GAME OVER, and Boruto was not about to waste more tokens on embarrassing himself in front of his boyfriend-

 _Hm._ What even was Mitsuki to him at this point? If one of them had been a girl, wouldn’t they be considered to be in a relationship by now?

“Do you want to move on, or-” Mitsuki said, close enough to his ear that he lost all ability to remember what game he wanted to play next. Deflect, deflect!

“Is there any game _you_ want to play?” Boruto spat out because his mind was blanking.

“Not particularly, no.”

“What about- _Uh_ .” Luckily enough, there was a _Dance Dance Obey the Government_ -machine standing in the corner to assist Boruto as he failed to recall any fun arcade game he’d ever played, ever. Said machine looked a lot older and beat-up than the version at the other, cooler arcade. But it’d probably be just as fun. “That one is a dance game. We can play together. Please?” 

Mitsuki did seem to agree as he stepped onto one of the two dance stages. As Boruto came closer to the machine, what he just thought were abstract colorful shapes on the side of the machine came together and turned out to be a drawing of an old man wearing a Hokage Hat pointing a finger at the viewer. As he swiped through the menu of possible songs he realized two things; 1) that he didn’t recognize any of the songs, and 2) that the man drawn on the _Dance Dance Obey the Government_ machine was in fact, the third Hokage. Konohamaru-sensei’s grandpa, right? 

Boruto quickly explained how the game was played and picked a song at random. For a beginner, Mitsuki was surprisingly good at the game and Boruto only barely got a higher score. “Do you want a re-match?” Boruto asked. Between the two of them, they only had enough tokens left to play one last game. Mitsuki did a small head bobble that could’ve literally meant anything, but Boruto chose to take it as a yes. But before they could skip to their next, final game, a small cutscene played on the screen.

“Do you want to be a HERO in the WAR?” the screen read. “Sign UP for shinobi training, TODAY!” The segment ended with the same image of the Third Hokage’s face(pointing finger and all).

“Wait, what war?” Boruto asked voice barely audible over the blaring unfamiliar yet distinctly old-fashioned music. The arrows kept passing by on the screen, but he wasn’t even trying to hit them anymore. He was losing, badly. “The war Dad won? How old is this machine?” The game ended with Boruto scoring 0 points, and with Mitsuki as the winner. He seemed confused at his victory, though.

“What’s wrong, Boruto?”

“I just- Is this an old machine or what? The last war was fifteen years ago.”

“Honestly, I think it’s even older. Since they’re using the image of the third Hokage, I’d guess it’s referring to the war before the one you’re thinking of. My parent fought in that one, too. On Konoha’s side.”

Trying to dredge up what his history textbook had stated about the third ninja war proved difficult for Boruto. He did remember getting all of the answers right on the test, but the actual details were now hazy. Except for one thing. “Oh yeah, my grandfather was in that too. He became the fourth Hokage after that war ended, and all that.” But one part of the puzzle was still missing in Boruto’s head. “But I don’t understand why they would try to recruit people by an arcade game.”

“Maybe the local government was trying to recruit people any way possible?” Mitsuki mused.

Boruto considered that. “Yeah? My Mom told me that when she was growing up, it was practically unheard of to not enroll in the Ninja Academy. Nowadays, it’s more common not to.”

“Really? I didn’t know that we were in the minority. Well, it’s probably because I only know the people I went to school with.” Mitsuki absentmindedly drew shapes in the dust coating on one of the nearby machines. “I wonder what our lives would be like if we hadn’t enrolled at the academy, and stayed normal citizens.”

“Probably a lot easier.” Not risking your life in battle every day from the tender age of 12 did sound pretty sweet. When he really thought about it, wouldn’t it make more sense to only have adult shinobi in combat?

“You’re right, it would be easier. But on the other hand, I wouldn’t have met you if I hadn’t been sent here for school.” Something sour and uncomfortable entered Mitsuki’s features. He wiped the surface he’d been drawing on clean with his hand, erasing the lines he’d made in the dust. “If I had refused to be a ninja, there’s no guarantee that my parent would’ve kept me-” He trailed off, and forced a paper-thin smile. ”Anyway, my parent told me a lot about the third ninja world war. Most of it I take with a grain of salt.” He looked at his dust-covered hand in displeasure. “I should probably wash my hands.”

(Was Mitsuki not having fun? Should Boruto change the subject? Or was Mitsuki just upset with his dusty hand? How could Boruto make this date more fun for him?)

In order to find out where the customer’s bathroom was located, they tried to get the attention of the arcade employee. Said employee was nowhere to be found. _Great._ However, there was a nearby door that on inspection turned out to very well be the customer bathroom door. As Mitsuki washed his hands, Boruto looked at the snacks available for purchase at the cash register counter. Anything to make him focus less on the questions spinning in his head. His favorite brand of chips weren’t for sale, but he did see a giant stuffed toy rat on the counter. It was, frankly, pretty cute. How come he hadn’t noticed it before? Then, the ‘stuffed toy’ started moving towards him in a manner an inanimate object _just shouldn’t._ As the rapid pitter-patter of its little paws reached the closest bag of chips, it started licking the bag. It could only be described as obscene. He had never heard anything sound so moist before. The rat kept staring Boruto right in the eyes as it lapped away at the plastic, and the visual and auditory stimuli combined made for an amazing power move. Especially coming from a rat. But it was also disgusting. Mesmerized, he simply couldn’t look away from the train wreck in front of him-

The noise of running water in the background turned off, and a couple of footsteps later-”Oh. That must be the rat,” Mitsuki said. 

A door(presumably to the back room) opened and the employee came out back again. “Are you guys leaving?” He looked directly at the rat, didn’t notice it, and looked up at Boruto and Mitsuki again. Then, turned his attention down at the counter again. The rat had now moved on to licking a candy wrapper. “There it is! Fucking finally!" The employee whipped out his phone and snapped a picture of the rat. "Goodbye, this dead-end job! And hello, culinary school!”

Boruto had to wrestle his diaphragm into some semblance of normal breathing to not laugh at the employee right in the face. Well, dreams coming true was always a good thing, right?

-

The bright sunlight of the outside world made Boruto's eyes tear after being in the dark(kinda depressing, to be honest) arcade for so long. In the time that had passed(only an hour or so), the once almost abandoned city street had began buzzing with life.

“What a great time,” Mitsuki said. “We helped a man realize this dream today, Boruto.”

“And I didn’t even have to make an inspirational speech! So-” Judging by Mitsuki’s facial expression(blank), posture(kind of slouchy), body language(just standing upright as most people would do normally), he probably wasn’t as uncomfortable as Boruto feared. If he was having actual fun, however, was fairly unclear. “-What do you want to do next?”

“I don’t know.” That statement of complete indifference was accompanied with a slight shrug of his shoulders that in no way, shape, or form made Boruto feel more confident or calm.

“I mean, something you think is fun?”

“Oh,” Mitsuki said. “Well, I always have fun with you. It doesn’t matter what we do. It’s about the same level of fun all the time.”

“That’s great!” Verbal confirmation that Mitsuki did in fact still like him really shouldn’t have been something Boruto needed to hear at this point. But it was reassuring, all the same.“But there must be a reason why you picked the rat arcade, right?”

“Yes. Because it was practically abandoned. It’s more comfortable without a crowd around.”

For a second, Boruto looked at his friend(???) standing before him, second-guessing every moment they’d spent together until now. “Mitsuki, do you dislike crowds?” _Why didn’t he say so? Was he just uncomfortable this whole time-_

“No? I meant that-” Mitsuki scanned their surroundings, grabbed Boruto’s arm, and dragged him into a nearby alleyway. The new location was deserted by all forms of life(except possibly some unseen critters digging around in a dumpster further in). “What I was saying is that I chose the rat arcade because I thought you’d be more comfortable.”

“Why? There was _a rat_ there! You saw it! It was huge!”

“If we had gone to the more popular arcade, we might've been found out. And you don’t want our relationship to be public, correct?” Mitsuki said, and as soon as the words left his mouth a dark pit opened its gates of fiery hellscape in Boruto’s gut. Now, he truly realized how narrow and cramped the alleyway was. The sensation of the brick wall pressing gently against his back misfired greatly somewhere along the path of his nervous system. Instead, it felt as though he was being crushed into a million pieces.

“No, I-” Boruto faltered. “I don’t-I don’t know? Did we ever talk about this? I don’t know how or when we decided that. What-Look Mitsuki, what do you want?”

"What I want?" Mitsuki’s quiet voice was so lost, and so confused. "That's not importa-I'll just do what you want me to."

“But. What if I want you to have your own opinion?”

“I know that’s what you want. I know that it would be in my best interest, too. It’s what everyone here tells me. It’s just-” He scrambled for words.”- _Hard_.”

Not sure what to say next, Boruto scuffed his shoe against the pavement. “I think we should talk about this,” he tried.

“Can we go back to my apartment? I need my cat for this.”

-

As soon as Mitsuki opened the door to his apartment, Boruto sneezed. Dust particles danced in the ray of sunlight that shone into the hallway. A flicker of the light switch revealed that the place had gotten even dustier than the last time Boruto had visited The curtains were still drawn, making the space seem even more claustrophobic than usual. Boruto’s eyes were already watering by the time he’d taken his shoes off. 

“Oh good, Mikazuki’s home,” Mitsuki pointed to a suspicious-looking lump in the bedsheets. He poked it once and was greeted with a surprised chirping noise. Once Mikazuki had resurfaced and had curled up in Mitsuki’s lap while purring like the engine of a motorboat, Boruto decided to go back to what they sorta, kind of, _needed_ to talk about. Eurgh. Awkwardly enough, they had ended up sitting on opposite parts of the bed. So close, yet so far apart.

“What are we?”

“You don’t know?” Mitsuki gathered his thoughts while scratching Mikazuki behind its ears. “Well, fair enough—I don’t remember us ever discussing it. So, whatever you want us to be, I guess.”

“—Wait. Why don’t you have a say in it?”

“Any sort of proximity to you is the optimal outcome for me. I don’t have any preferences beyond that.”

“Don’t you realize how messed up that sounds?”

“No? Should I?”

“Urgh— _Yes_!”

“Why?”

“Because,” Boruto calmed himself with a deep breath. He just had to keep repeating himself. “What you think _matters_. Why do you think that it doesn’t?”

“I suppose it’s the existential dread of it all. Why are we still here, just to suffer-”

Suddenly, all of the puzzle pieces came together. 

“-wait. Mitsuki, are you-”

The way Mitsuki had told him he didn’t have much energy, the indecisiveness, the dust collecting all around his apartment.

“What?”

His discomfort around talking about his parent, his complete lack of prioritizing his own emotions, his perceived lack of purpose. They all pointed to Mitsuki being-

“-depressed?”

“Oh.” Silence filled the space between them(aside from Mikazuki’s purring). The gap in conversation was somehow tenser than every time they’d both almost died at the hands of enemies. “You’re right, as always. Me being depressed would explain a lot.”

“Wait, are you unhappy-” _with me,_ was the planned end of the sentence that Boruto didn’t get to finish. Mitsuki interrupted him before that.

“Not because of you. Believe me when I say this.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“I just don’t understand what being happy feels like. Mostly, I don’t know how to be my own person. ‘Not sure how to talk to my parent about that. Their only solution has been to scan my brain for traumatic memories and offer to erase them. I don’t want to forget, so it never helped me feel better. Eventually, I just stopped sharing things with them.”

It was at this moment that Boruto decided that someday he was going to pummel Orochimaru with some kind of blunt object, preferably something really heavy, as retribution for being a crappy parent. But for now, he bit his tongue and let Mitsuki finish.

“My parent says a lot of things that contradict each other. At this point, I don’t know if I can trust them at all. For example, they told me that the reason why your grandfather, Minato Namikaze, was chosen as Hokage over them was that he was being ‘ _puppeteered by the forces of corruption and evil_ ’. I’m not sure if that’s true at all. They also kept talking about how he was secretly bald-”

“You mean that his hair was a wig?” This information came so out of the left-field that Boruto just _had to_ interject.

“Yes. My parent thought that his secret baldness was worse than him being an alleged unfit leader of the village.”

“I don’t remember much from history class, but our village does have a long history of corrupt politicians. So, it could be true. But we’ll never know. The Hokage position is kind of lame anyway. But that part about my grandfather being secretly bald wouldn’t surprise me. Judging by the way my dad looks, it could run in the family.”

Mitsuki narrowed his eyes. “And where does that leave you?” Again, there was no telling if he was making fun of Boruto or not.

“Uh,” Boruto touched the top of his own head. He did, indeed, still have hair. _Didn’t think that zinger through all the way, did he?_ “I’d just shave it, honestly. It would look cool!”

“That’s a valid choice.”

A pause. Mikazuki scampered away and started scratching at the balcony door to be let out. Its owner obliged, getting up from the bed and, for a moment, leaving Boruto alone with his one still-unanswered question.

“So, what are we going to do now?”

Leaving the door open, Mitsuki sat down on the bed again. Only this time, he sat down right beside Boruto. His weight made the mattress bounce slightly. “I want to be with you. Because I like you, a lot. And I don’t want to hide it. I don’t know how to bring it up with my family though, it’s hard to talk about my personal life with them. They’ve never given me much privacy, so I feel uncomfortable letting them in. I might share it with Karin and Suigetsu, though. Maybe my brother, too. I don’t know.” Mitsuki sighed deeply and leaned against Boruto’s shoulder. “What about you?”

“Me? Well, I really like you too, so we’re on the same page there. I would like to tell my family and our friends about, y’know, us. Also-”

“What?” Mitsuki looked up at him, making eye contact with him for the first time in the entire conversation.

“If you are. _Uh_. Depressed. Isn’t that a medical issue that needs addressing?”

“You’re right.” He shook his head but ended up mostly nuzzling into Boruto’s shoulder. “You always are. My textbook says that depression can’t be treated with medical ninjutsu. You actually have to actually talk to people to recover.” Mitsuki said the words ‘talk to people’ with the highest level of contempt Boruto had ever heard him express. “It’s so complicated, yet so straightforward. It’s confusing.” 

“Well, sometimes you have to try, even if it’s hard!” 

“Right. I’ll ask Sakura-sensei about it. The process will probably be interesting once I commit to it. Anyway, we both have a lot of people we actually need to talk to. I’ll get the hang of it eventually.” Mitsuki paused for a moment. A stray wind had blown into the room and gotten a hold of a single dust bunny. It flew in a graceful circling motion to finally land in his hands.“Also, I need to vacuum my apartment. I can’t live like this.”

-

The next morning, at the Uzumaki household. Boruto scarfed down his food, gulped down a tall glass of water, and promptly stood up to announce his great news. “Family, we are gathered here today so I-”

“-Can eat breakfast like we do every day?” Himawari deadpanned. “Well, you inhaled it, rather.”

“Let Boruto finish,” Mom said while putting her chopsticks down and folding her hands to her chin like she somehow knew that what Boruto was about to say was of utmost importance. _Weird._

Powering through his sudden cold sweat and dry mouth, he continued. “I’m-” His hoarse voice broke. “Uh. I’m gay? I’m dating Mitsuki now. He’s my teammate. Oh, I guess you already knew that, haha-”

A quiet complete lack of reaction from any of his family members followed. As though time itself had slowed down to stand perfectly still. It was so awkward that Boruto, for a brief moment, considered running away with Mitsuki to live under a rock in the desolated woods. Well, it was certainly a possibility once Mitsuki felt less depressed. Then, Himawari broke the silence.

“Yeah?” Himawari said between bites of food. “That’s… what I thought?”

“What?” Boruto couldn’t believe his ears. “We haven’t told anyone yet! Are you guys psychic or something?”

Himawari scrunched her face up in disbelief while Mom just kind of. Sighed.

“Boruto, honey-”

“My window faces the street, as you might know from living in this house for your entire life,” Himawari interrupted. “Because of the angle, I can still see you guys practically eating each others’ faces even if you hide behind the bushes. You weren’t all that sneaky, is all I’m saying.”

 _Urgh_ -Had Boruto also been this bratty as a tween? He couldn’t have been! Himawari had been so sweet when she was younger, but somehow she’d turned into this horrible gremlin-

“Boruto. We know. That’s great! We’d love to, uh, meet Mitsuki again!” Mom said like a diplomat trying to prevent an imminent war. “I haven’t seen him in the past month or so, not since you first started acting weir- I mean. Just bring him over for dinner sometime! Even though he doesn’t eat, right-”

Not sure if he should be relieved or disappointed, Boruto looked over at Dad. He hadn’t said anything yet. And from the looks of it, he wasn’t even paying attention. Mom forced a fake cough and lightly ribbed him in his side.

“What do you think, Naruto-kun?”

“Oh, yeah! You’re gay, and all that. That’s great, son!” Dad finally said, and then immediately went back to reading through his schedule for the day(as he usually would while eating breakfast). He looked up momentarily to ask; “Have you taken Mitsuki tandem biking? You know, your mother and I used to-”

-

“I knew already,” Sarada rolled her eyes. “Come on! You guys have been acting so awkward around each other lately! Do you really think I wouldn’t notice that?”

-

“Good job, Boruto and Mitsuki!” Konohamaru-sensei said and awkwardly added; “Uh, I guess. More importantly, I heard from Sarada that you’ve been working really hard with her as Team Captain. That’s the spirit!”

-

“Was it supposed to be a secret?” All of their old academy friends had been gathered at Boruto’s request for his and Mitsuki’s Great Big Gay Coming Out(the event of a lifetime). But most of them expressed confusion as to why they would even care.

“And here I thought you wanted to gossip about the rat arcade closing down,” Iwabe said, snubbed and mildly miffed. He shuffled his beanie down to cover his eyes. “I saw that rat first, remember-”

But one person who had an actual opinion on the newly made public relationship revealed himself. “Hah, ga- _uhuuuuuuuh_ -ay,” Inojin said, elongating the middle syllable of the word ‘gay’ in the most grating manner possible. 

“Is that all you have to say?” Boruto bristled. But in a way, he was grateful to finally get an actual reaction.

“No. So like, that story about you falling off a cliff was so, how can I say this-” Inojin brought his closed hand to his lips and then sprawled his fingers out in a chef’s kiss. “- _Hilarious_. I dare you to do that again. But this time, you actually reach the other side of the ravine and you do the jump together.”

Mitsuki narrowed his eyes in intrigue. “Why?”

Inojin uttered a string of non-commital-sounding vowels. As if that wasn’t nonchalant enough, he shrugged and simultaneously moved his arms in a wishy-washy motion that most closely resembled juggling. “Come on, it’ll be fun? Especially if you don’t die.”

-

“Sure you wanna do this?”

“We’ll be safe. I trust you”

Together, they put their bicycle helmets on with utmost decisiveness and led the tandem bike to the highest part of the hill that Boruto had skateboarded down just a month prior. Their friends were all waiting for them. Most of them were spread along the track to the ravine, but one friend, in particular, had decided to send them off.

“Just so you know, if you die-I’ll kill you,” Sarada snarked. Then; ”Do a backflip for me.”

“Thank you, Team Captain,” Mitsuki said. “Trust me when I say that we will not die.”

“For your eyes only, Sarada, we’ll do a backflip!” Boruto did a jaunty salute. Sarada smiled and set off running into the forest treetops along the track(to be able to see the backflip with her own two eyes).

“Look at her go,” Mitsuki commented as they positioned the bike at the starting point. “Well-To fit in a backflip we would have to accelerate more rapidly than our previous calculations. Let’s see here-” He counted on his fingers while muttering under his breath. “How much do you care if this bike gets destroyed in the process?”

“My mom would care!”

“Ok, that leaves out going into sage mode then. Well-” He squinted and pulled a face in concentration. Which was very cute, but-

“We’ll just have to pedal like hell. It’ll be fine.”

Mitsuki snorted out a short laugh. “Yeah, _probably_.”

On their marks, ready, set- _go_ ! They set off speeding down the hill onto the forest path. Their friends cheered them on by screaming at the tops of their lungs and doing the wave. Surprisingly soon they reached the cliffside and only saw a quick flash of Sarada and Denki with his camera out, before the tires of the bike left land and they soared through the air. His and Mitsuki’s terrified/euphoric screeching was almost drowned out by the steady drum of his heartbeat in his ears. Suddenly the world went topsy-turvy and the (spikey)bottom of the ravine, so far away, sailed past his line of sight until they were upright again. The cliffside on the other side of the ravine was so much closer than before, _oh-_

The tires hit the ground with an ungodly noise that was a mix between a screech and blunt force trauma. Dust clouds rose as the bike titled and Boruto was thrown to the ground. As he gasped to regain the air that had been knocked out of him, he gagged on some airborne dust. A nearby cough made him look up. Mitsuki was sitting up, only very much hunched over. Dirt covered his clothes and Boruto had an inkling of a feeling that he didn’t look all that much better.

“-Are you guys alive?” Sarada shouted, her tinny voice traveling far from over the other side of the ravine. 

“Are you?” Mitsuki asked. He slowly got up on his feet and reached a hand down towards Boruto. Boruto crawled into the fetal position only to realize that it went way smoother than expected. There was little-to-no pain at all, even sitting up went well.

“Yeah?” Boruto allowed Mitsuki to hoist him up. Their audience far away greeted their proven lack of severe injuries by tiny-sounding-far-away cheerful hollering.

Mitsuki hadn’t let go of his hand. “Well, this happened,” he stated. “No obvious injuries, although it should be noted that adrenaline rushes often mask pain. We might have some soreness to look forward to.” He gestured towards the bike with his free hand. “We’ll have to wash the bike, but it looks like it’s in one piece. All and all, a fun bonding experience.”

Boruto felt an overwhelming urge to kiss Mitsuki, but was hindered by the fronts of their bicycle helmets bumping into each other. He settled on cradling Mitsuki's (dirty) jawline with his (likewise dirty) hand.

“Pfft, we can do _that_ later. Right now, we still have to get back to Konoha,” Mitsuki said. He went to inspect the bike further, and as they lifted it off the ground it did very much seem miraculously intact. Very dusty, mind you, but still functional. 

“Your calculations were correct. Y’know, about the jump. We even did a backflip and everything.”

“That was _our_ calculations.” There was a slight rise in Mitsuki’s otherwise monotone voice, which for him signaled an extreme amount of offense taken. “I only modified what we’d already come up with together. But yes, thank you.” 

While they were both (very) bad with words, at least for now, there was no mistaking what Mitsuki was trying to get across. Maybe one day they could express it with the right words, too.

And with that, they set off on the tandem bike to find the nearest bridge to lead them back home.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! kudos and comments are much appreciated!


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